Tim tickled until he pees himself
This story stars Tim, a twenty year old with short brown hair and ticklish feet. Since it was summer, I wore jeans, a t-shirt and slip-on shoes. I got to his place early and cracked my bottle of Southern Comfort. We were the only ones there. Now this was not really a party since we got together just about every night to drink and have fun. We turned the tunes on loud and started drinking. Within about a half hour, there was a knock at the door. A guy I had never met before came in. Rob knew him from somewhere; he didn't tell me where. After some small talk we decided to play Quarters for drinks. Now this is one game I always lose at...I drink Southern Comfort in shots and the other two were drinking beer. The idea of the game is to bounce your quarter off the table and into a glass, then pick someone to take a shot. Well, to make myself more comfortable, I kicked off my shoes and sat around a small table on the floor. I think Rob was first and this was his game. As the quarter bounced off the table, I heard a "ching" as it landed in the glass. Then I hear, "Don drink." I knew where this was going, so I mixed a strong drink of Southern Comfort and wine cooler. I wanted to stay in the game for a while. So I took the first of many...I must have heard that "ching" about a dozen times before he missed. Now it was his buddy's turn; he wasn't as good, but he made 5-6 of them before missing. At my turn, I made about 5, all to Rob. Now it was his turn again and he made at least 6 more, all to me. I wasn't drunk enough not to figure there was a pattern forming here. I said, "Hey, motherfucker, spread the drinks around." I was starting to really feel the booze; now they would give me a few, and a few to each other. After an hour, I was shooting wild: when I bounced the coin, it flew off the table. I would yell out, "Oh, shit, I'll get you bastards next time!" But of course, after they got me another dozen times, I was so shitfaced I quit and crawled away and lay face-down on the floor. Then I heard them whispering together. I lay there and giggled. Whenever I'm super-drunk or stoned, I get the giggles and it's hard to stop laughing. I mumbled, "So, what are you ladies talking about?" and laughed at my own joke. Rob's reply was, "We're talking about you. I was just telling______(I have no idea what his name was) about how ticklish you are. " As my eyes popped open and I tried to crawl away, his bud sat across my ankles. He says, "So I hear you have very ticklish feet. I wonder what kind of a reaction I'll get if I do this?" And I felt a fingertip stroke my bare sole. I bit my lip and didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. But when I felt both soles being stroked, I started giggling and wiggling around. I started begging for him to stop. And he did for about 20 seconds. Then Rob joined him. They both sat across an ankle and that son of a bitch Rob started using the thing that drives me crazy: It was a bloody fork. He even gave one to his friend. As soon as I felt it, I yelled out, "Oh God, not that!" And started laughing hysterically, screaming, "OHHH hhaaahhhhahahahahaahaa GODDDHAHAAHAHHAHAHHHEHEHEEHHHEEHEE NOOOHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHEHEHE" They were running those forks from under my toes down to my heels and everywhere in-between. With two doing it at the same time, it was driving me insane. Then they zig-zagged all over my soles. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was kicking and thrashing, but I couldn't get away from the madness. I just started laughing harder HEEEEEEEEEE HAAAAAAAAAA STTTTHHAAAHAAHAAAHAAOPPPPPPPHAAHAHAHAHAAHAAH. I even started making animal noises; that's when I start to really lose it. And I really had to pee badly, I just started whipping my head around and screaming like a lunatic. Then they stopped. Oh God, finally it was over. Rob stood by my side as I started crawling to the bathroom; he was walking slowly to see where I was going. But before I could get to the bathroom, Rob ran in and slammed the door locking it. I lay by the bathroom door and climbed up the door and started clawing at it. Begging him to open up. I then slumped down in front of the door. I forgot about the other guy, but he didn't forget about me. He sat across my ankles again and dug his fingernails into my soles. The shock jolted me awake and I thrashed around and laughed even louder this time. I felt like going insane, I almost pissed myself. After a few minutes, I jerked myself around and got him off me. I stood up but he came at me again. I don't know where I got the strength, but I used it all to shove him into the wall and ran out the front door of the apartment, and down the hallway until I was outside. I then whipped out my dick and took one of the longest pees. I then heard someone say, "Hey, how's it going tonight?" It shocked me and I looked up and there was a guy hanging out the window above me watching me pee. I had no idea who he was. He was trying to make small talk with me. It was pretty weird, maybe he heard all my laughter from the torture I went through. I hurried in before he got the idea of attacking me. I don't remember what happened after that, I must have passed out... * * * * * Well, Rob and I used to get together for a lot of partying. This happened when I was in my early 20's. Rob, Clint and I were over at Rob's place that evening to do the usual thing. Drink and party to loud music and maybe smoke a little weed. OK, a lot of weed. Anyways, it just so happened that Clint brought along his girlfriend's 12 year old brother to keep an eye on. You see, he had a tendency to run around on the streets with his wild friends, but not tonight. So after smoking a few joints, we got down to business. Playing quarters. Now, my big mistake at playing this game was they all drank beer, and I didn't like beer so I drank Southern Comfort. -YUM- This night I was drinking it mixed. I believe Rob started and this is his game. He rarely misses. So right off the bat, he makes me drink about 5-6 shots in a row. Now its Clint's turn and he does the same to me. When my turn comes, I'm already feeling the effects and make a few. Then it's my turn to drink again and I couldn't find my drink. That's when I notice the kid's been drinking out of it. I get a little pissed, but let it pass. After about 30 minutes of this, I'm getting pretty tanked up and head to the bathroom. When I get back I see the kid chugging down my drink. I get mighty pissed now and grab my drink and push him down. He starts bitching about wanting to play, too. So I go and get the little shit a beer and say, "OK, it's your turn and you lose". I then hold him down with the help of Clint and pour the beer all over his face and in his mouth. He then starts whining and crying saying he's going to get me back. So, being a nice guy, Clint and I picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. Tipping him upside down, we gave him a swirly - you know, picking someone up upside down and sticking his head in the toilet and flushing - he was screaming and crying and swearing at both of us, but we were laughing so hard, we didn't care. We threw him on the bed. And I said, "You wanted to play with the big boys, how did you like it?" I then laughed and went back to play more Quarters. After another hour or so, I got so drunk I couldn't play anymore. And then the doorbell rang and a lot of people came in and the music went up. So I crawled into the back bedroom to pass out. I stumbled to the bed and jumped on, not remembering it was a waterbed. As soon as the waves hit me, I thought I was going to lose it. I rolled off the bed in a hurry and I got jammed between the bed and a dresser on my stomach. So I figured I would either pass out or go to sleep here. Then I heard the door open and someone walk in. So I said, "Hey, I'm stuck down here. Can you help me up?" But I heard no reply. Instead, I felt someone walking on my legs and ass; then he dropped across my back. It was that damned kid again; I thought he had left. He then started slapping me across the head; then he grabbed my long hair and pulled my head up and slapped my cheeks. Now I was getting pissed and swore at him to get off me or he'll be sorry. He just laughed and started poking my back and rib area. I wiggled a bit and bit my lip. So he started grabbing my sides a little harder. I yelled out, "No, stop that...haahhaaa." That's when I started giggling a little harder. Now, when I'm straight I'm ticklish, but when I'm drunk, I'm super-ticklish. He then bounced down until he was sitting on my ass and started grabbing my sides and waist area. My laughter was starting to get louder and I started to beg him to quit. "Come on, haahhaaaahaha mannhahaa stophhaaaaha Please heeeehahahahaahah." But he wouldn't. After about 5 minutes he finally stopped. He stood on me and walked down my legs. Then he dropped across my ankles. Earlier when playing Quarters, I had kicked off my shoes and it being summer, didn't bother to wear socks - So, here I was, pinned, with a little bastard who I pissed off sitting across my bare feet and knowing my weakness. And of course, my greatest weakness is my feet. Then I hear, "I hope this tickles, you bastard!" and starts tickling one sole. I try biting my lip and holding it in, which I did for about 30 seconds, until he starts dragging his fingernails across both soles at the same time. I scream out, "NOOOO HAAHAAAHHEEEE NOTTHHAHAH BOTHHHAAAHAAHEEEE SOLEESSSS!" and laugh like a lunatic. And I hear, "So, I found your weakness, did I? Suffer." And that I did, while he tickled every inch of my bare soles. I couldn't believe I was being tickle-tortured by a 12 year old. All I could do was laugh and beg for him to stop, but he wouldn't. Then it happened: I was getting one of those - I have to piss really bad hardons. My only thought, besides, "Oh God, make this stop!" was "Don't let me piss myself in front of this little bastard. He'll tell everyone." Then he stopped I couldn't believe it. He got off me and left. I thought I could just pass out then, and I almost did. Then I heard, "I'm back" and he dropped across my ankles again staring at my tortured soles. I didn't know what he had in store for me next. But I yelled out, "Please no more, I can't take no more! I have to pee really bad, please help me up and we're even, OK?" His reply was, "Mmmmm, no, I think I'll continue tickling both feet until you piss yourself." I cried out, "No, not that, please!" And I don't know what he had, but it was pointy and hard. And as soon as they started scraping across my bare soles, I knew I was in a different tickling hell this time. He was ruthless as those two objects scraped and probed my soles endlessly, never pausing for a second as I screamed and laughed and swore for him to stop. He then started chanting, "Piss your pants, piss your pants." My only reply was, "AHHAAAAA HHAAHA HEEEEE HHHAAA STTTTOPPPPAAAAAHAHAHAAAHA HAAAHAAHEEHEHEEHEHEHEHHAHAAHA." Anyway, that went on for...I have no idea how long. Until I finally screamed at the top of my lungs, with whatever energy I had left. And it happened: I pissed a river. As it ran down my pants and spread out on the floor, he must have noticed it. Because he stopped and said, "You actually did it! You pissed yourself. You sissy." He went on about being King I was a little bitch. But then, with all the wiggling around I must have pushed the dresser a bit, because I started to get to my knees. He saw this and ran out of the room and I never saw him again. I crawled into the bathroom and cleaned up and went out the back door and passed out in my car. Making sure the doors were all locked, making sure so that kid doesn't come back to find me passed out in the car with some of his buddies. Just think if he came back and pulled my feet out through the window and rolled it up and tied my wrists to the other side, and him and another friend attacked my bare soles with objects, having a contest to see who can drive me insane first, and a third friend in the car with me was tickling my ribs and sides. I would probably be institutionalized after an ordeal like that!